King Roan The 100 Novels & Stories

"In two weeks. If the Alpha cannot attend—" "He'll attend." I didn't recognize my own voice. "He has to." "Ruth." Roan's ancient eyes met mine. "He cannot walk. Cannot stand. Cannot lead a pack through hostile territory to face enemies who want him dead. We need to prepare for the possibility that you will go in his place." "I'm not the Alpha." "You're his heir. His only heir." Roan reached into his robes. "And there is the matter of the sealed letter."

And I stood there, chest rising and falling slow, tasting iron on my tongue. Behind me, I heard her breathing. Quick. Frightened. The slight scrape of her as she backed against a tree, small hands curling around herself, watching me like I was some monster stepped straight out of her nightmares. Maybe I was. I didn’t care. I wasn’t done. I threw my head back and roared. Not just a roar of victory. A roar of possession. Of warning. Of absolute, brutal, ancient dominance. The kind of roar that tells the whole damn forest: this is mine. Mine to guard. Mine to break. Mine to keep. And nobody touches what’s mine and lives to tell the tale.

“You slept for so long that I began to worry you would never wake up.” “How long was it?” I rasp, my voice hoarse from a combination of disuse and lack of water. “Five days,” the man responds. “Who are you?” I interrupt before he can continue. “Ah. Of course. Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. I am Clay Denvo. The king of the rogues,” he says as he gestures widely with his arms. “I didn’t know that the rogues have a leader,” I respond coolly.

As they parted, Roberick whispered, "Our journey is not over, my dearest. The principles we hold dear will continue to shape the destiny of our kingdom, and the love we share will be a beacon of hope for all." Cynthia's response was a soft smile, her hand still entwined with his. "As long as we're together, there's nothing we cannot face, my love." The night stretched on, the stars bearing witness to the enduring love and unity of Roberick and Cynthia, the rulers of Avondale. The rooftop terrace, beneath the starlit sky, remained a place of connection and reflection, where their love and principles intertwined to shape the destiny of their kingdom.

A shiver travelled through my down my back. "That's about the same time the attacks started getting worse," he told me. "Why do you think you're a rogue? Do you even know what they are?" I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes as I knotted my fingers together in my lap. "My old pack told me that the only title I'd ever be worthy of is a rogue." "You're nothing like the rogue werewolves." Hunt sounded so reassuring and when I looked at him, his eyes were warm and kind.

Beside him ran a lighter brown wolf, swift and powerful in his stride—Roan, Thane’s right hand and Chief warden. And between them, sleek and proud, was a wolf of deep black fur, his form lithe but strong, his eyes burning with quiet fire—Kael. Fully transformed now. No longer merely the Promised Saviour, but one of them, running at the heart of the pack. He ran effortlessly now, muscles coiling and extending in rhythm, paws striking the earth in perfect harmony. His breath was steady, his heart full.

Damien’s expression did not change, but I felt his displeasure in the air between us. “How much?” “Until sunset.” Roan made a low sound. “The Alpha does not wait on human permission.” I looked at him. Really looked. The kind of look I had wished I had given him the first time. Before he became my shadow. Before his polished politeness hid every report he sent to Damien. Before he smiled and told me Mara had chosen to leave. My voice dropped. “Your Alpha came to my camp.” Roan’s eyes flashed. “So unless you are the one offering peace,” I continued, “you can let him answer.”

While Weston bragged about his as if he won trophies for each one, Roan kept silent and probably consumed what he thought about his injuries by himself. My travels hadn't been for nothing. I had heard stories of Alphas and the sons who fought by their side. Roan was not left out. His father was called Devon and he preferred people referring to his son as Crown Prince, because he had already given him a council and court. That was until he left for the Alpha Trials anyway.

Ron came with the drinks, two bottles alone since the four won't go about drinking a bottle each. A/N Drop a review, readers. Um... I hope your day went well. Over here it's night so goodnight lovely readers. Hopefully, I will finish the next chapter and publish it quick. After the near lunch, the four drove to the sanctuary. Kyle drove them with his car while Mia texted Todd and told him to puck her bike from the college. RAVEN'S ABODE Scorpion blade. Kyle marveled at the bold writing on the top of the big building and spacious land. It was nothing near to a church, more like a fancy refugee camp but wilder. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

So, the farther away from prying eyes, the better. “Roo?” Nate draws my attention from the car window to his perfect blue eyes. We’ve reached the edge of the forest. “See you soon, Princess.” He speaks. No waver. No hesitate. No doubt. Ren places his hand on my thigh and gently rubs. “Ten minutes, Roo. Then the hard part is over.” And he’s the same as his brother. Solid, and confident. I do the only thing I can in that moment and take a deep breath, drawing in as much of their strength as I can, and exit the car.